Hey, stop messing with my ego, I say in mock protest. I’m finally dating someone my friends admire, and he keeps insisting that he’s not that great.
He finally chuckles. I believe I’m reasonably attractive and interesting. But I’m not some paragon of a boyfriend. He turns to me. Which you’re finding out right now. But you still have a chance to bail.
While it’s true that going out with Mats isn’t quite what I expected, it’s still fascinating. Our conversations go all over the place, and we certainly argue a lot. But I enjoy the way he challenges me.
I take his hand again and squeeze it. I’ll hang in there.
At least until we have sex. If it sucks, I’m out. Who am I kidding? It will not suck. He’s an elite athlete. For the forty billionth time, I recall how good his undressed body looks. But then I feel a stab of guilt for sexualizing him like all those strange women. Like when I asked for more shirtless photos.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to objectify you earlier, I say.
He chuckles. You’re allowed, Cleo. You’re my girlfriend.
That’s the first time he’s called me that, and I’m beyond thrilled. Turns out I like putting labels on things.
Okay, Mr. Reasonably Attractive, I need to buy a birthday gift for my mom.
When’s her birthday? he asks.
Beginning of March. The big five-oh. My aunts are throwing her a party. It’s been on my calendar for weeks. Even though I’m only an hour from Hillsboro, I’m too busy to visit during the hockey season. But I have to go to this one, since they arranged to hold it on a day when I’m available.
Shit. Will Mats expect me to invite him along? Because even though I told him everything with my brother was fine, it’s not really. There’s no way I could bring Mats home without starting World War III.
Mats is busy window shopping, oblivious to my anxiety attack. St. Viola has a lot of gift shops. I’m sure we can find something.
Phew. Everything’s fine. Step away from the panic button, Cleo.
Wait. Do you enjoy shopping? I ask in surprise.
Sure.
Wow. I’ve never known any guys who actually like to go shopping. My dad and my brother complain if I want to spend even five minutes in a store that doesn’t sell hockey gear.
I think that’s a cultural thing. Lots of Asian countries treat shopping as a date activity. You see it all the time in Vancouver.
There are lots of different Asian groups there, right? I’ve done some research into Vancouver in my desire to learn more about Mats.
Yeah. Chinese are the biggest group, then South Asians. Japanese are the fourth- or fifth-largest population. It was a bit of a shock to move here, where there are so few Asians, and I stick out, he admits.
I consider this perspective for the first time. To me, Mats stands out because of his good looks and hockey talent, but maybe some people categorize him by race. Sure, I’ve felt discrimination as a woman in hockey, but it’s not the same as being judged by your appearance.
I squeeze his hand. I definitely want to visit Vancouver someday. You make it sound so interesting.
I miss it. Not sure where I’ll end up working once I graduate, but that’s where Adrian and I want to live when we set up our own business.
We wander into a funky little shop with local artisan crafts, and Mats helps me pick out some jewelry for my mom.
That was fast, I say. And she’s going to be really impressed that I didn’t get her a garden shop gift card again. I suck at shopping, unless it’s for someone who likes hockey.
Then I spot a sandwich board down a side street.
Look, a thrift shop. I’ve heard about this place, but I’ve never been around when it’s open. Can we go? My wardrobe is almost completely thrifted.
Mats agrees good-naturedly. The thrift store is a large room in a warehouse. A woman with bright red hair greets us, then goes back to sorting through a large plastic bin of clothes. To my surprise, instead of sitting and scrolling on his phone, Mats starts going through the men’s racks beside me. He pulls out a few things and heads to the tiny, curtained-off changerooms. I take the pair of Carhartt pants I’ve found and follow him. The pants turn out to be too tight on the thighs, which happens a lot. I come out to wait, but Mats doesn’t emerge.
Can I see? I ask.
He pulls aside the curtain. Now he’s wearing a heavy navy shirt that looks super stylish on him.
